More than a little drunk on you
by fanficsofclare
Summary: Johnlock. John goes to a gay bar where he bumps into Sherlock who says he's working on a case. After one night in the same bed, their relationship takes a dramatic turn for better or worse.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: some more Johnlock for you. I ain't even sorry.  
Sherlock is quite OOC in this :s

_**(this has no beta all mistakes are my own and fault.)**_

* * *

"Hey John, I dare you to-" *hiccup* "-to get that guys number!" Stamford yelled across the table, even though John was slouched right next to him. Stamford was a little drunk. He had drunk 3 beers and lost count of how many shots of tequila he had downed. Okay, more than a little. A lot drunk.

John scanned the room, ignoring the winks men were sending him. The bar stools was lined with men of all types and sizes and ages.  
"Which one?" He asked, his words slightly slurred.  
John was also a little more than drunk. It was Mikes birthday and John never passed up the chance to go drinking in a gay bar.

"The fit brunette at the end." Mike giggled.

Ah, John thought, that one. He had caught his eye when they came in. The mysterious brunette was obviously here for a shag, something John could deliver.

"How much?" John asked.

"I'll give you a tenner [£10] and a condom for you two." Stamford's giggles turned to laughter.

"Done." John smirked, he stood up and made his way to the brunette at the end.

One of the best things about hanging around with Mike, was the fact that he was gay, just like John. Mike loved gay bars, John loved gay bars. They were double trouble. Both John and Mike had had numerous one night stands from this place, 'Toxic Passion', so they liked it best.

John sat down next to the brunette.  
"Hey, handsome. Why are you all alone? You looking for some company?" John smirked. His voice was practically unrecognisable under the deep sexy voice John staged.

The brunette didn't reply and kept his face down.

"What's the matter babe?" John cooed, rubbing the brunettes back softly, tracing circles over his silky purple shirt.

"I'm busy." The brunette muttered, still not looking up at John.

"I just want to make you happy. Make you feel good." John trailing his hand further down the brunettes back.

"Will you leave me al-" the brunette looked up and saw John, eyes widening.

"John?" The brunette asked.

"Sherlock, what are you doing in a gay bar?" John spluttered, removing his hand as if burnt.

"It's for a case. What are you doing in a gay bar?." Sherlock poked John in the chest. "Wait, no don't answer that. Always knew you were gay. Didn't know I was your type, though." Sherlock smirked.

"No, absolutely not. Mike dared me to get your number." John defended, folding his arms.

"John I can read anybody. You like me and we both know it." Sherlocks smirk widened, getting more pleases with each crazed glare in Johns eyes.

"John, how much have you drunk?" Sherlock laughs, as John tries to get up and walk away but falls back down on the stool.

"More than a bit too much." John hiccuped, the force making him fall off his stool. Sherlock reached out and caught him, holding him steady.

"You're really warm, Sherly." John giggled, snuggling his head into Sherlock neck.

"I'm going to take you home" Sherlock muttered, mostly to himself than John.

John was light and Sherlock was strong, so carrying the half asleep John wasn't the problem. The problem was Johns wandering hands and his drunken words. He sent shivers down Sherlock spine as John lightly danced his fingers in circles on a part of Sherlocks bare chest, which John has somehow managed to reveal.  
"Sherly, I lurrrrveee you so much. I want marrry you and keep you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever." John smiled up at Sherlock who didn't look back but smirked to himself.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlocks neck and snuggled in as close as physics allowed. When he was finally asleep he started making cute noises that sounded like purring.

John awoke again just as Sherlock was tucking him into bed. He kept his eyes closed and waited for Sherlock to finish. He felt lips on his forehead and heard Sherlocks footsteps head towards the door.

"Wait!" John whisper yelled after him.  
Sherlock turned to face John.  
"Don't go." John whimpered. He suddenly felt vulnerable. Sherlock sat next to John on the bed.  
John lifted to duvet for Sherlock to crawl under. Even in his state, John noticed how patient Sherlock was being. The brunette shuffled in next to John, providing glorious warmth. John pulled him closer, like a teddy bear. He rested his head across Sherlocks chest, loving the rise and fall of each breath.

"Goodnight Sherly." John whispered, linking his fingers into Sherlocks and kissing his hand. Sherlock relaxed and moved his other hand to stroke Johns hair soothingly.

It's not every morning John gets to wake up next to his favourite person. But this morning it was.

"Good morning, John." Sherlock chirped, obviously in a good mood.

John yelped and jumped away from Sherlock, moving away from his warmth. He doesn't notice when Sherlock reaches his hands out to pull John back as Sherlock retracts them quickly.

"How drunk was I? Did we... you know?" John asked, a worried look on his face.

"Not very. And no, we didn't." Sherlock explained.

"Oh." John breathed.

"How long have you been awake?" John asked.

"Only 3 hours." Sherlock shrugged.

"Why didn't wake me up?" John shouted "I'm going to be late for work!"

"You just looked so... human. I was trying to read you. Find out about your dreams. Anyway, it's Saturday. You don't work on Saturdays." Sherlock explained.

"So how are my dreams?" John asks, sitting back on the bed but keeping his distance from Sherlock.

"Sad. You looked sad. I wanted to make you happy but I had no idea how. You kind of woke and asked me to hold you, so I did. Then you started shouting at me. Saying horrible things. You were right next to me but a million miles away in the place between a dream and reality and I couldn't reach you, couldn't help." Sherlock turned away from John and stood up.

"What did I say?" John said.

"I can't tell you." Sherlock muttered, walking briskly out the door.

"They were my words, I deserve to know." John yells after him.

There is no reply from Sherlock so John races out of the room and follows him.

"Sherlock, why won't you tell me?" He demands.

Sherlock spins on his heel and grabs John by the collar and shoves him against the wall. His eyes are stained red and his face is littered with tears.

"Because I'm scared what you said is true." He sobs, breaking ever so slightly. He left go of John and continued the walk to his room, slamming the door shut with a vicious BANG!

* * *

tbc...

If you want to know what John said or what's going on with Sherlock stay tuned for Chapter 2 :)

Thanks for reading


	2. Chapter 2

~During the Night~

Sherlock woke with a start, the cause of it was the wriggling body of John sprawled across his chest.

Sherlocks bare chest was wet with Johns tears and John was rolling and crying out.

"Sherlock!" John yelled.

Sherlock cooed him out of the nightmare, half awakening John, who sat up.

"Go back to sleep, it was only a nightmare." Sherlock assures John.

"You won't leave, will you?" John asks, holding Sherlocks arm for comfort.

"No, I'll be right here." Sherlock smiles and it's a loving smile.

"Just... hold me?" John half asks half pleads and Sherlock can't say no. He pulls him closer and holds him close.

John pushes him away suddenly and starts shouting.

"Get away from me." He screams.  
"I hate you."

"John, please calm down." Sherlock pleads. He sounds weak, he feels weak. He reaches out to John.

"You sick freak I don't want you to touch me again. You want to hurt me in ways I shouldn't be hurt. You're a sadist." John shouts, pushing Sherlock away.

"Get out, you're disgusting. I hate you. You're repulsive, vile and horrible." John yells, throwing punches at Sherlock which barely miss.

"No, don't say that. I love you. Don't say those things." Sherlock starts crying.

"I could never love you. You're pathetic." John spits and he falls back into the bed. He's in a sleeping trance.  
Sherlock slips out of bed onto his knees on the floor, crying silently. He is pathetic. John could never love him. Why would he? Sherlock is everything John said he was.

"Sherlock, come back." John mutters in his sleep. Sherlock just wants to feel John so he complies, letting the other snuggle into him. He feels save again. Violent John is gone and won't return tonight, although he will no doubt be making a reappearance in Sherlocks own dreams the next night.

Sherlock gently cries himself to sleep again.

~End of FlashBack~

Sherlock lays face down into his damp pillow, contemplating whether or not he wants to breathe ever again.

He thinks only of John.

How much he likes Johns smile, or the somehow cute scar on his shoulder. The way John is so passionate about looking out for Sherlock. The look of amazement John had while watching Sherlock work.

He thinks about how far John would go to deny rumours of their relationship. How John is gay but not interested in him. He thinks about what John said in his dream, how each word cut like knives.

He thinks about how he loves him. John is his obsession, his desire. He wants every inch of John all to himself. He wants John to love him, John to want him more than anything. He wants John at his worst and his dirtiest. He wants John at his mercy and under his control.

He wants John to submit.

John stands frozen where Sherlock left him. He can't believe that had happened. He tried to remember what dream he had shouted out, what had weakened Sherlock like that.

It couldn't be that one...

The same recurring nightmare about Sherlock. The worst thing John could imagine. He shuddered and tears pricked his eyes. No wonder Sherlock was hurt.

John feels woozy and stumbled back to bed, falling into another horror filled sleep.

A/N: Want to know what happens in Johns recurring nightmare? Join me next time for the answer :)  
Thanks for reading

Thanks to KiKi-King-1996 for reviewing and thanks to:  
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	3. Chapter 3

~Johns nightmare~  
"Sherlock." John whimpers as Sherlock kisses his neck. John wraps his hands around his waist.  
John is thrown back from Sherlock and hits the wall.  
"Get away from me." He screams.  
"I hate you."  
"You sick freak I don't want you to touch me again. You want to hurt me in ways I shouldn't be hurt. You're a sadist." Sherlock shouts  
"Get out, you're disgusting. I hate you. You're repulsive, vile and horrible." Sherlock runs over and starts kicking and punching John.  
"I thought you loved me." John starts crying.  
"I could never love you. You're pathetic." Sherlock spits and leaves the room.  
"Sherlock, come back." John whimpers.  
Then he usually wakes up and cries the rest of the night. But not that night. That night Sherlock was there. The real Sherlock.

* * *

A/N: in case it's not clear, the things John was shouting at Sherlock was actually what dream Sherlock says to John in the dream.  
Join me next time for:  
- the awkward encounter after the fight  
- and a little bit of Moriarty  
- a sneaky kiss  
Sorry this chapter was brief.  
Thanks for reading.  
A big shout out to KiKi-King-1996 for reviewing again. It makes me so happy that you're so interested in my story!  
Thank you so much to Samayori nobody has ever added me to author alerts before!  
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- twistintimeinwonderland  
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NOTE:  
I'm writing this story pretty quickly at the moment but that might all change. I let you know my update schedule in a later chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

Moriarty was painfully obsessed with Sherlock Holmes. His thoughts were corrupted with evil plots to destroy the worlds only consulting detective. He wanted him raw and ruined.  
**Sherlock, we both want the same thing, we should get together. We'd make an incredible team** - JM  
Moriarty stared at his phone until it buzzed in Sherlocks retaliation.  
**I want you gone** - SH  
Moriarty smirked as he keyed in his reply to the keypad and sent it.  
**One night with me and you'll never want anything else. I can make you feel things you've never felt before.** - JM Sherlocks reply comes quickly **I know that's not true. -SH**

Moriarty thinks for a moment and then sends **Why-** JM

There's no reply. Just the silence of Moriarty's flat. It's deafening, being alone like that.  
"Boring." Moriarty shouts to himself.

* * *

Sherlock comes out of his room eventually, like always. They acknowledge each others existence but don't speak because speaking would mean a fight and fighting would mean addressing their feelings. They just weren't the talking type.  
"Who made you this way?" John asked, breaking the eternity long silence.  
"What way?" Sherlock muttered.  
"You're broken. Who broke you?" John walks over to the desk where Sherlock is standing.  
"You already know." Sherlock sighed.  
"I'm going to fix you." John promises. Sherlock turns around and they share a long moment.  
John pulls Sherlock into a hug and feels Sherlock relax against his touch. When they pull apart John lightly kisses Sherlocks lips.  
"Tea?" John smiles, walking into the kitchen.  
Moriarty's phone buzzes and he picks it up, filled with anticipation.  
He throws it across the room and screams in frustration.  
The text reads:  
**Because you're not John-** SH

* * *

A/N:  
Dun dun duhhhhh.  
So they kissed... Kind of... And awww Sherlock loves John so much :)  
If you want to find out who broke Sherlock join me next time!  
Thanks for reading, you guys are awesome.  
Thank you to Baru33ka for favouriting me! :)  
Thank you to:  
- Baru33ka  
For Following/Favouriting this story.  
I love all you guys, you're awesome!  
Note: I'm having a little difficulty with part 5 because it's going to be very detailed and probably quite long.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: this chapter is a bit violent and not for the faint hearted. You've been warned.

~1 year ago~

Sherlock lay against the cold brick wall, bloody and bruised. The shadowed figure stood above Sherlock, their wicked smile bearing down on him. They kicked him again and again until Sherlock begged for mercy. But what came next for Sherlock was worse.

They bent down, glinting eyes of the mysterious man meeting lifeless ones of Sherlock. Running a icy hand down Sherlocks face and neck and heading towards Sherlocks waist.

"No. Don't." Sherlock pleads, using his remaining strength to try to push them away. But he's too weak, too injured.

"I'm going to ruin you." The person growled into Sherlocks ear. He began tugging Sherlocks trousers down followed by his boxers.

"Please. Anything but that." Sherlock whimpers, struggling under the forceful grip.

The person stops listening to Sherlocks weak protests. Sherlock closes his eyes shut and doesn't see but he feels. He feels the worst kind of pain he could ever imagine.

With each pain filled thrust Sherlock wished for death, each wish left ungranted.

Tears are streaming down Sherlocks face and he cries out in pain.

The sticky liquid fills him and the pain slows to a throb. The dark figure leans forward, out of breath, pressing their lips to Sherlocks. They kiss him but he doesn't kiss back, he won't. They shove their tongue into his mouth, sucking and suffocating.

"I enjoyed that." They point out, the dim light showing off their evil smirk. "I think it's unfair that I got off and you didn't. Let me help you with that."  
Their hand wraps around his cock, pumping up and down.

"No! Please stop!" Sherlock yells, trying to kick them away. He's failing. Falling into the place he doesn't want to go.

Their hand movements gets faster and the horrible tightening in Sherlock stomach grows stronger. He can't stop, can't do anything to end it.

He's reaching the finish, the movement getting faster and faster. It's wrong, so very wrong that he could possibly feel so nice from such a bad thing

He's ashamed with himself as he loses control, grunting at the terrible mix of pain and pleasure. He slumps further into the wall, tired.

His attacker stands up and walks from the shadows and out of the alley, leaving Sherlock for dead.

That's when Sherlock wakes up.

A/N:  
So I'd like to play a game with you. Just leave a comment with your guess as to who the mysterious person was.  
MWUAHAHAHA, I wasn't going to tell you who and how in the same chapter, that would be too nice. You might not find out in the next either! :)

Thanks to DoctorSherlockLove for reviewing. Thanks to KiKi-King-1996 for reviewing, now I feel as if I have to apologise for this chapter because its so cruel :( Thanks to Barunka394 for reviewing, so glad you're excited! Thank you to DoctorSherlockLove for reviewing, I'm glad that you like my story!  
Thank you to:  
- DoctorSherlockLove  
- KawaiiBanchos  
- xxlindseyheartxx  
- twilighter256  
- NewGenGrandma

For favouriting/following  
I you guys are awesome.


	6. Chapter 6

MTALDOY 6  
Sherlock woke up covered in sweat and tears. That scarring night brought back to him in a nightmare. He wished it was just a nightmare, but it had happened, he couldn't change that.  
He looked over to the clock. 2 am. Sherlock shut his eyes tight but couldn't get back to sleep. The face of his abuser appeared as soon as he closed his eyes.  
Sherlock needed to see John.  
He stood in the door frame, looking in on John, who was sleeping peacefully. He looked so cute like that. Sherlock just wanted to bundle him up in his arms and hold him there forever.  
John stirred in his bed. He sat up but didn't see Sherlock. He was still asleep, the fact of it making Sherlock smile.  
Sherlock wanted to wake John up so he could feel his warmth. He just needed to hold him for a while, then everything could be okay.  
He turned to leave as John made no sign of awakening.  
"Sherlock?" John asked, squinting at the darkness.  
"Yes." Sherlock whispered, turning back to John.  
"Are you okay?" John , getting out of bed.  
"I had a bad dream and I came to check on you." Sherlock muttered.  
John walked over and gave Sherlock a big warm hug, just what both of them needed.  
"John, can I stay here, please?" Sherlock whimpered as John pulled away.  
"Yeah." John patted Sherlock awkwardly. He refrained from mentioning how surprised he was that Sherlock had said please. "I want you to stay."  
John held Sherlocks hand and pulled him to the bed. He wiggled under the covers next to John. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pulled him into a warm embrace, resting his head in the crook of Johns neck. John smiled and snuggled into Sherlocks touch.  
"Sherlock?" John whispered after a while.  
"Yes?" Sherlock whispered back.  
"I'm glad I met you."  
"Me too."

* * *

A/N:  
awwww, cute Johnlock moment. I've been thinking hard about how I was going to sneak some smut into this story and behold my readers the next chapter shall be shameless smut with little relevance to the plot.  
So nobody had a guess! :( I'm extending the competition to at least chapter 8 maybe more. The winner will receive a personalised ficlit or a chapter in More Than A Little Drunk On You or something, good luck.  
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- shhylady  
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For favouriting/following this story


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: warnings smut :-)

Sherlock woke to the soft calming sound of Johns purring, each breath fluttering against his neck. He smiled at the smaller man in his arms and placed a light kiss on Johns head, snuggling into him.

"Sherlock." John mumbled in his sleep. Sherlock stroked his waist through his t-shirt, lovingly. John continued to softly call out Sherlocks name until it escaped from his mouth in the form of a delicious moan.

"Sherlock." John moaned again, raising his hips in the air. "Sher-lock. Faster." His hips rolled, a hand lazily running over his own crotch, still in a dream.

Sherlock couldn't control the gorgeous groan from escaping his lips as he watched John. He felt his cock start to harden. He wanted John to wake up so Sherlock could make John moan like that for real. He couldn't bring himself to stop John touching himself, as the sight was so erotically beautiful to ruin.

John looked achingly hard and Sherlock wanted nothing more than to touch him. Sherlock ran his hand around Johns waist to his groin, dancing his fingers over Johns cock.

"Sherlock." John groaned but this time it was real, as the wonderful feeling had pulled him from the dream. Johns own hand slipped down to his waist as Sherlock tugged down Johns boxers.

John twisted round to face Sherlock, kissing him perfectly, rubbing their groins together. It was Sherlocks turn to moan in delight as Johns bare cock met his clothed one.

Sherlock turned so his back was pushed into the bed, pulling John on top of him. John fiddled with the hem of Sherlocks boxers before pulling them off.

John lifting his hips up and quickly impaled himself onto Sherlock, hissing at the brief pain. Sherlock almost came there and then at the glorious heat inside John. John waited a moment before rising up and plummeting down, grazing his prostrate. He groaned. The sound almost orgasmic to Sherlock. Sherlocks hips rose up to meet Johns movements, creating a steady but wonderful rhythm, each thrust hitting into Johns prostrate.

Thrust after thrust, bringing both closer and closer to the edge of bliss, was beautiful. Absolutely amazing, the raw and sheer intensity of the moment, the thick sexual tension finally broken. They weren't having sex, they were love making, giving the term a whole new meaning. It was more than love, more than anything that could ever be. It was beautiful, the trust of having their hearts in each others hands.

As they both climbed higher and higher into release, they reached for each other, pressing their lips together, filled with want and need and power by a limitless emotion.

As they crashed down, back to earth, there was a moment of longing for each other on something more than a sexual level. They were both broken souls, never quite fitting into the puzzle of society, but they fit together perfectly and that was so important, so important that they didn't let that slip away, not ever.

They both returned to sleep, holding each other like they would never let go, neither intending to.

A/N: wow I'm sorry I haven't posted in ages, this took me so long to perfect and I'm still not completely happy with it but hopefully you guys are!  
I've written all the other chapters up to 10 and I've just been waiting to finish this before uploading so the next three chapters after this should be up very quickly.

Thank you to PhoenixFeather0198 for reviewing, I'm glad you like my story. That's a good guess.  
Thank you to KiKi-King-1996 for reviewing.  
You'll just have to join me later for the answer.  
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-White Tasia  
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- vatroncale  
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For favouriting/following!  
You guys are awesome, I love my readers.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock woke before John and watched him a while, lovingly stroking his head. After a while he slipped away from the sleeping John to make them breakfast. He wanted to surprise him with a home cooked meal, something John hadn't had in ages.

He clicked the kettle on and found some bread, which he popped into the toaster. Miraculously, there were untouched eggs in the fridge, which he cracked into a pan to cook.

John loved fried egg on toast with tea, so that's what Sherlock prepared for him. When it was ready, to the best of Sherlocks ability, he put it all on a tray. He had pulled a pretty looking weed from the flower box on the window and put it in a glass of water, which also went on the tray.

He pushed the door open with his hip.

"Good morning sleepy." He smiled, turning to face John.

The tray dropped, smashing and spilling everything. It fell at a impossibly slow pace, all of time stopping around him.

The room was trashed, draws pulled out of the dresser, the mattress half way across the floor. The covers scrunched up.

John was gone.

In his place on the duvet was blood. The window was open and cracked slightly, the curtains floating in the breeze. There was glass and dirt on the floor.

"John?" Sherlock called out weakly but it was no use. He know John was gone. He tried to look for clues, but his mind refused to function, refused to read.

His knees felt weak and he collapsed onto the ground, yelling weakly for John. Tears began to stream down his face.

It was no use, John had be taken. Right when Sherlock had what he needed, it was taken from him. He knew straight away who had stolen him.

He would get John back.

A/N: I'm sorry. This was quite short. The next chapter shall be uploading in like a few seconds...

Join me next time (if you still love me after what I did) to find out what has happened to John!


	9. Chapter 9

John woke up in a dark room, a searing pain in his stomach. Blood pooled in the folds of his jumper.0000000000000000 That's when he remembered. He had been kidnapped. He had no idea where he was, how badly he was bleeding and how he was going to get out alive. The only thing John knew for certain was that he only wanted to see Sherlock again.

A bright light streamed in as the door opened and his kidnapper entered, flashing a malicious smirk.

"Let me go!" John spat out.

"All in good time." They strolled over, tracing a hand over Johns cheek and neck. "As soon as Sherlock comes running, he'll fall into my trap and you won't be needed."

John tried to push his hand away but he's wrists were bound, pulling his head back instead.

"No, you can't have him!" John shouted, trying to wriggle away from their burning touch. The kidnapper smirk widens and they pull John closer, stealing a vicious kiss.

John pulled away, using his shoulders to push him off.

"Don't touch me, you sick bastard!" John screamed. The man stood up and walked to the door.

"I'll just take it out on Sherlock." The repulsive smirk was back and the door closed behind him.

"Moriarty! Don't you dare touch him." John shouted after him.

The door opens again and the tall man runs across the room.

"I'm not Moriarty. No, I'm much worse." The person whispers in a dark tone, trailing their finger over Johns lips.

"Who are you?" John whimpered, terrified for not only his life but Sherlocks.

"Not yet, my sweet. Just wait." They kissed him again, with worse intentions.

John struggled to escape his touch, only to receive a slap across the face.

"You are mine!" The growled, gripping Johns face with sharp fingers digging in.

"You can't! Don't touch me!" John pleaded, trying anything to get away.

"It's you or Sherlock. Make a choice, John." They say, in between sucking at Johns neck, painfully.

"Leave Sherlock alone!" John yelled.

They smirked again, the sight of it making John feel sicker than ever.

"I'm going to ruin you and when I finished, I'm going to ruin Sherlock, again!"

John struggled again, managing to slip on hand out of the ropes, gripping at their throat.

"Naughty boy!" They laughed, prying the hand away without much effort. "We can't have you escaping now. I think it will be much easier for me if you're knocked out, don't you think Doctor Watson?"

That was the last thing John knew before it went black again.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock finally came to his senses and whipped out his phone. He scrolled down to the contacts beginning with M, selected the number he needed and quickly typed out a text and sent it.

**He's got John, please, I need your help. I'll do anything- SH**

Sherlock thought for a moment before sending a second text with an address.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket and went to Johns drawer, where he pulled out the gun. He hid it behind his back, tucking it into his trousers.

He raced out of the house and hailed a taxi. He told the taxi driver the same address. He knew this is where John would have been taken to. It was so simple. They wanted it to be simple, they were going to try and trap Sherlock. They could have Sherlock, as long as John was safe.

The taxi pulls up and Sherlock hands the driver the money on the way out.

He looks up at the building. It was old and rundown, the giant letters on the frame used to say Hospital, but now they say osita. Nobody has been inside for years, nobody except Sherlock, John and that man.

Sherlocks memories, the ones he so desperately tried to forget, come rushing back.

First, it happened in the alley.

Then, he was taken here. Held captive for weeks. The man would touch him every day. Nobody noticed he was gone, nobody cared. He escaped by himself, without help.

Sherlock had been trapped in the building right before him. John was in there, he was sure of it, all alone. If that man had laid a single finger on John, he would kill him.

The front door was open, this was all a trap and Sherlock knew it. He'd do anything to save John.

He walked in, slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. He stalked around the corridors in the shadows, passing door after door. He carefully took the gun from it's hiding place and let his finger hover over the trigger.

The abandoned hospital had millions of rooms, Sherlock believed he would never find John. He was looking for a small room, but not too small. It would be in the last place he would expect. He only could wish John was still alive.

As Sherlock reached the third floor, via the stairs, the phone vibrated in his pocket. He swiftly took it out, reading the text quickly. It was a reply and it was just what he had hoped for. Those exact words.

**I'm on my way, be careful - JM**

A/N: so Moriarty is not the bad guy.  
I know exactly who the baddie is going to be and you guys won't find put until chapter 12. I've planned this since chapter 3. :-) I'm currently still writing part 11 which will be first person from the rapist. I'll upload as soon as I can and I'm sorry you waited so long.


	11. Chapter 11

MTALDOY11  
He's here. I can tell. He's coming for John, Sherlock thinks he can rescue him. I scanned thorough the security camera footage, finding him stalking down the fourth floor corridor. He was peering inside every room. It would be hours before he found John. And I'll be ready for when he comes, the perfect plan all set up. Sherlock belongs to me. Nobody else can have him. Not even little John.

I looked over to where he was laying against the wall, unconscious. A light trickle of blood stained his lips and neck, stopping at his shoulder. He looked cute, like a broken puppy. John was broken. I broke him. It felt good to know I ruined him. I ruined Sherlock, claimed him as mine. And now I've crushed John, he won't be fit for anyone except me, no one will have him and he'll come crawling back to me and I won't need him. I just need Sherlock and he needs me.  
I'm going to keep Sherlock, I won't let him get away this time. I won't let him leave me, not again.  
My eyes dart across the camera screens to the entrance tape. A man walks in, holding out a gun and wearing a jacket with grenades in the pockets.

Moriarty.

Fuck.

Sorry it's short I'm going away from the Internet for a while so I might not be able to update for ages so I quickly wrote this to keep you going.  
Thank you to Drippin'Ink for reviewing. I hope I do not disappoint with my writings of Moriarty. And yes! I was trying to confuse you! Thank you to PhoenixFeather0198 another excellent guess but not quite!  
Thanks to:  
-fluttershy9410  
-linorr258  
-damson1  
For favouriting/Following this story.  
Almost at the end now :(


	12. Chapter 12

A/N  
So, I have returned. I started writing this as soon as I got home. It took me a while, because I've been away from the story for a while.

Thank you lovely people for being patient. I really hope it was worth the wait.

The eery silence, that followed the awakening of John, was deafening.

He finds himself in a new room, tied to a new chair.

It's a large room, long and wide with cream walls and tall elegant windows, which lets the moonlight stream in. The only other piece of furniture in the room is a four poster bed.

Johns jaw hurts and there's throbbing in his calves, like he pulled a muscle in each of them. Actually, as he adjusts to his bonds, he finds that he hurts everywhere. Every bone, every inch of skin, there's no escaping the dull pain.

There's a noise, a door opening and a figure comes into the light.

"Moriarty! You're working with him, aren't you?" John yelled across the room.

"No, you simpleton, I'm rescuing you." Moriarty smiled his ever mischievous smile and started making his way over to John.

"I don't believe you!" John squirmed, trying to pull away from Moriarty's nimble fingers, which were making short work of the ropes tied to John.

"You're boyfriend asked me to help him, lets say, a temporary truce." Moriarty pulled John off the chair. "We need to leave."

The criminal mastermind hauled John across the room to the door.

A bullet whizzed passed their heads, lodging itself into the door frame.

"Not so fast, don't you think we should wait for Sherlock?" The person responsible for the bullet called out. The two turned to face him.

"No. I think we should have a little talk, a heart to heart." Moriarty grinned pushing John behind him and out the door, closing it behind him.

"I guess you haven't moved on. You can't have Sherlock. If I can't nobody can. And what help will it do if you rescue the one he loves?"

"You've been monitoring my texts, haven't you, sweetie?" Moriarty smirked, "Don't tell you're jealous."

"Of you?" The man scoffed, waving the gun.

"Of Sherlock." Moriarty said, walking closer. "

"What?"

Moriarty raised his eyebrows and quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, I don't want Sherlock. It's all a big scheme to get him where I want him, I thought if I promised steamy rough sex he might come rushing, but it turns out he really like his pet." Moriarty explained, bored with the situation. "I like your gun."

"Thanks, it's an AK 47." The man smiled and looked at the gun, before frowning back at Moriarty. "Stop stalling me!"

"I'm merely getting the facts straight. Anymore questions, or shall we get down to business?" He smirked again, eyebrows punctuating every word.

"Business?" The mans voice cracked. He coughed. "I mean, what do you want from Sherlock?"

"Nothing. He was going to be a present, for someone special to win their heart, but I think I can't do it all by myself." Moriarty said, the smirk turning into a slight smile.

"What are you talking about?" The man asked, stepping away from the advancing Moriarty.

"You! I want you." Moriarty laughed, quickening the pace towards the other.

"Really?" The man cracked, the gun falling to the ground.

"You're perfect." Moriarty smiled a genuine sweat smile, something nobody had ever seen.

The man stopped retreating. He let Moriarty come closer and closer, until they were only centimetres apart.

Eyes dilated, heavy breathing. Moriarty licked his lips. The man watched eagerly, mouth slightly parted.

Closer, closer still they become, lips on lips.

~MEANWHILE~

"Well." John said, starring awkwardly at the door which he had just been pushed through. He was unsure what to do. Should he wait for Moriarty to come out, or for Sherlock to arrive or just go home?

He pressed his ear against the door but heard nothing except a strange squeaking noise.

He pulled away from the door, blushing fiercely, recognising the pattern in noises.

Then he heard feet, hitting the ground in a run.

"John, you're okay!" Sherlock yelled, running around the corner and down the corridor into Johns arms

"I guess." He shrugged, wrapping his arms around the taller man. He still hurt all over, but at least Sherlock was with him.

"Did he...?" Sherlock asked, not wanting to say it.

"Yes, it was awful!" John said, tears pricking his eyes and arms tightening around Sherlock.

"I know, it's going to be okay. It's me and you, we're always okay. Lets go home."

* * *

So, I have reached the end of this story. I don't know how I ended up at this conclusion. This was supposed to be a cute smutty one shot about a gay bar. And then it turned into a kind of fluff emotive thing. I'm not entirely happy with the ending, it's quite anti-climatic. The original bad guy was meant to be Mycroft but then Moriarty just kind of screamed get me laid and Mycroft an Moriarty wouldn't work so I left the bad guy as anon. Sherlock and John got a nice (ish) ending.

(I really don't like the ending I just needed to wrap it up because otherwise I'd never finish it, I'm sorry)

If you like this story, why not read another of my many Johnlock fics?

Thanks to:  
- Wholockchick  
- ElvnAngl  
- Sierra-Atticus Graves  
- Mycroftissexy  
- kilaht805  
- Rally47  
- Alice Soleil  
- wholockian-obsessor  
- lowdawg46  
For favouriting/following this story.


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